


The Rising Devils

by TheMovieDoctorful



Category: DCU (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics), Superman (Comics), Vixen (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Feel-good, Redemption, Team Bonding, Team Feels, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-10 21:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMovieDoctorful/pseuds/TheMovieDoctorful
Summary: When Poison Ivy is recruited out of prison for a special team with 5 other villains, she assumes she'll be joining the Suicide Squad. Vixen and Superman, however, offer Ivy and her teammates something else; redemption. They assemble the "Rising Devils" as an attempt to rehabilitate the former rogues as heroes and protectors of humanity. However, the team of villains looking for a second chance faces opposition from heroes, U.S Government agent Amanda Waller and a terrifying enemy; Braniac.





	1. Ivy's Journal #1

Ivy's Journal, June 8th, 2017

I don't ask for much in Arkham. Being the farthest thing from a "model prisoner" in this place, it would make me something of a hypocrite if I did. That's not to say that my relative silence came out of any place of politeness or some misplaced sense of honor, I just don't beg. Begging is for the weak and the victimized, and I refuse to be either. But the one thing, the ONE thing I do ask for...Is a single cell. It turns out even the most minor of luxuries are just too much for me here. And, of course, when Ms. Pamela Isley gets a roommate, it can't POSSIBLY be someone respectable like Selina or Bane or Harley. 

I got Arkillo. 

Yeah. 

Arkillo.

I couldn't even get Sinestro, I had to get his smelly, brainless helper monkey. I guess I'd just have to deal with him the way I dealt with most insufferable males; ignore him and make him regret ever having met me if he was truly stupid enough to fuck with me. Luckily, this hadn't happened yet. He'd been loudly snoring in his bunk for hours, slumped over his bunk like a large dog with visions of intergalactic terrorism dancing in his head. The bed could hardly support his girth, bent in the middle to the point it almost touched the ground. Normally, this would be incredibly annoying, but I wasn't focused on sleeping tonight. I never sleep well in Arkham and I'd been spending the night decorating my cell with a vine. Just one, tiny, thin vine, concentrated in the dirty corner of the cell, small enough to hopefully not capture any attention from the guards. I stood crouched down, eyes squinted, my entire body tensing as the vine grew millimeter by millimeter from the cracks in the cell. 

I heard slight cries of fear from my cellmate behind me as I turned sharply. The cries became louder and louder, his body movements become more frantic and violent as he thrashed about in his bed. Finally, his monstrous head shot up with a scream of terror, his skin practically glazed in sweat. He breathed deeply as he looked around the room for his...Attacker, perhaps? Who knows what goes on in the nightmares of Sinestro Corpsmen. 

"Must have been some nightmare." I laughed, turning my attention back to my little, baby vine. "To make a 'master of fear' scream in his bed like a child. Or maybe you're not as fearless as you claim."

Arkillo laughed lowly. 

"Cute. But ignorant. If you were as smart as you thought you were, you'd know Sinestro Corpsmen get their power as much from their own fear as the fear of others. The former often fuels the latter, like gasoline to fire."

I rolled my eyes. I could honestly care less about the affairs of the distant planets, the majesty and beauty of the Earth has always been enough for me. 

"Fair enough, my apologies." I responded. "Your entire Corps are cowards. Don't feel bad though, sweetie, most terrorists are."

The Vornian warrior snorted crudely. "'Terrorists.' That's rich coming from the most infamous eco-terrorist in the sector. Killing politicians, ransoming billionaires, poisoning reservoirs...If you weren't so naive, you'd be well on your way to becoming a Sinestro Corps member yourself."

I clenched my fists, seething in anger. He dared call me "naive?" I never poisoned ANY reservoirs. I said I did, and people bought it, but they were empty threats. Empty threats made effective from both my intellect and my reputation. A little background research and it would take around 30 seconds to find this out. For somebody apparently so well versed in fear, it shocked me that Arkillo seemed to have absolutely no understanding of strategic deception. I continued to ignore him until I heard a guttural, sexual growl emanate from his throat. 

"Then again," he said. "Sinestro MIGHT make an exception to your naivete on account of that piece of ass. Not sure if the Corps have a secretary position available, but we could always make room."

He'd pushed me too far. I hadn't been slaving away for hours trying to sprout this vine for a Vornian moron to treat my body like his own personal pornography, in my very presence no less. I threw a cloud of dust I'd produced from a gland in my wrist at Arkillo's face. The alien coughed vehemently, drying his eyes out. Of course, it was FAR too late for that. 

"Was that supposed to teach me a lesson?" he snickered. 

I shook my head confidently, a sinister smile on my face. "No. Your lesson should start...Right about now."

Arkillo began to gag a bit. He tried to regain his composure, but continued gagging over and over again. Finally, he maintained a still composure...Before vomiting profusely all over the floor. I backed away to avoid getting any vomit on my clothes or skin (Even in this disgusting prison environment, I tried to stay as hygienic as possible.) The slight red tinge of the vomit suggested he may have very well been throwing up his own blood. He dropped to his knees, reaching to grasp his stomach before collapsing back first on to the ground.

"Super coniine." I explained. "In its normal state, coniine causes vomiting and progressive paralysis for normal humans. With a bit of "bio-engineering", however, the symptoms become...Well, slightly more severe. Enough to bring down a Vornian, apparently. See, the guards put me in a location and physical state where growing any form of plant life is nigh impossible. But getting rid of my natural toxins is a significantly harder task for them to pull off."

The Vornian's eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. He wanted nothing more than to wring my neck, but in the state he was in he couldn't even lift his arms. He'd live, most likely, but this little experience would hopefully give him future incentive to keep his eyes and his thoughts (Meager though they may be) to himself.

I couldn't witness the fun much longer before the alarms went off. Didn't have much time to react before 4 guards shot a full barrage of tranqs at me from just outside my cell. That only pissed me off more.

I charged at the guards, tackling one to the ground and beating his head to the ground savagely again and again and again. My fellow inmates cheered and whistled loudly. I wasn't well liked here, but that didn't matter to them as long as some guards were getting their asses kicked. I fought like a woman possessed, and I was hardly treating them any less brutally than they'd been treating me. As a guard to my left reached to grab me. I sent a quick chop to his neck, I tripped him with my leg and held him in a vicelike headlock before he hit the ground. His struggles grew weaker and weaker as I squeezed and squeezed. Unfortunately, the tranquilizers began to take their toll before I could fully choke him out. I became woozy and tired, my own grip becoming weaker, before I slumped over into blackness. 

I woke up in the early hours of the morning to find myself in solitary. If this was supposed to be a punishment, they did a shitty job of it. I liked the quiet and was I hardly attached to any of prisoners here but Selina and Harl. I hated this place. And apart from those two, I hated the people in it. I was better off without them and they were better off without me.

I stayed in solitary alternating between sleeping and brooding until I heard the locks of my door being opened one by one. While many prisoners may welcome a bit of noise to shatter the aura of artificial stillness, for me it was an annoying distraction. When all the locks were opened, a woman stepped into the room. She wore an orange jumpsuit and clawed gloves, along with a tribal necklace across her neck. A totem of some kind. Her dark skin was flawless, her lips full and pouty and her brown eyes deep and soulful. Focused. Her face could very well give Harley's a run for its money.

"A pleasure to meet you Ms. Isley," she said. "My name is Mari McCabe."


	2. Vixen's Journal #1

Vixen's Journal, June 9th, 2017

Truth be told, I was much more thrilled to be meeting Ivy than I'd be willing to admit to anyone. Me, the Queen of the Red, having the chance to talk face to face with the Queen of the Green? It was the opportunity of a lifetime. The possibilities of what I could learn from her alone were exciting enough; anyone with a high school biology education knew the symbiotic relationship plants and animals had in an ecosystem. The more I knew about and could help the Earth's plantlife, the more I could protect its animal kingdom. I kept a cool, sly smile for Ms. Isley that hid a massive grin inside as I sat down on the bolted chair in front of her. All that separated us was a bolted table and a dim light from above, barely illuminating Ms. Isley as she leaned against her own chair casually. 

I anticipated Ms. Isley to be stunning, but nothing could possibly prepare me for her beauty in person. She looked every bit the goddess that she was. Her biosuit crawled out underneath her orange prison jumpsuit at her neck, hands and feet. Her lush, full red hair was wild and unkempt with a very natural beauty, leaves and buds of flowers poking through. Her skin was pale and soft, her dark, forest green eyes holding a great power and gripping intensity to them. She had the full, tempting lips of an angel. Was easy to see how so many men, and women, fell under her spell. She was very much one in a million. Even shaded in darkness, the allure filled the whole room. 

"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Isley" I told her. "My name is Mari McCabe. You may know me as..." 

"...Vixen." she finished with a small smile. "I must say I'm a...Huge admirer." 

I raised a suspicious eyebrow. I wasn't one to let my guard down, even for a person I looked up too as much as Ms. Isley. I was hardly a spring chicken to be manipulated. "Is that so?" 

Ms. Isley leaned forward in her seat, giving me a look of rather unexpected warmth. Warmth. As many positive words as I associated with Poison Ivy, "warmth" was not one of them. Dare I say it, she seemed sincere. I wasn't the biggest "people person" but I could certainly tell when people were playing games with me. "Yes." she continued. "Most of the so-called 'heroes' only look out for humanity. They think only of themselves. You, on the other hand, have your neck out for ALL of Mother Nature's children. That level of selflessness...Almost gives me hope in humanity." 

"Almost?" I asked with a little chuckle. 

"Almost. Let's not push it." Ms. Isley responded lightheartedly, lowering her head and blushing slightly. 

I sighed. "Humans aren't perfect. But I have faith. Personally, I think they could learn a thing or two from you. I've looked at your record. Raising orphans, sheltering the victimized, solving murders, saving lives...Both plant and human." 

"Well, it's nice to be appreciated."

I was pleasantly surprised. Things were going much better than I had anticipated and we were very much hitting it off. I felt like, had I not been here on business, I could probably talk with her for hours. But, that being said, I had a job to do.

"I assume you're not just here for pleasantries." Ms. Isley sighed sadly. "I hear you worked with the Suicide Squad in the past. Task Force X. Assuming Waller wants me to poison some politician or tie up a loose end?" 

"You're correct in assuming I'm not here for pleasantries" I told her with a shrug, digging in my backpack to find the binder that I had put together. "But I'm not working for Waller. Not this time. I've partnered up with Superman to establish an alternative to Task Force X. The purpose of this team is rehabilitation of villains into possible heroes. When I was employed with Waller, I found myself fighting side by side with a lot of good people. Good people who've unfortunately just had bad luck." I laid the binder on the table before Ivy, pushing it towards her. "'The Rising Devils' project was founded by me and Superman as an attempt to rehabilitate villains as heroes." 

"Giving the prisoners badges." she laughed mockingly. Her skepticism was unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. Ivy's sarcasm and snarkiness were almost as infamous as her acts of eco-terrorism. "I'm sure that'll turn out well for you. Who else you looking to recruit?" 

I gestured towards the binder. "Take a look yourself, Ms. Isley" 

"My name is Pamela" she insisted assertively. "Ms. Isley is what the guards call me. You want me on your team, treat me like a team member." A frown passed over my face, a cold feeling of regret hitting my body. I'd done my research beforehand on how Arkham treated its patients. The horrors Pamela had suffered...I wouldn't even wish them on my uncle. I couldn't imagine the kind of emotional, psychological and physical pain she'd suffered through, and the last thing I wanted to do was trigger any memories. 

Pamela had a look of curiosity as she dug through the pages of the binder than quickly turned back to the all-to-familiar smirk of skepticism. "Let's see," she began. "You have an ex-marine who shoots people for money...A genocidal, talking gorilla...Batman's estranged, angstlord delinquent...And lets not forget my LOVELY new roommate." Despite her comedic descriptions, she remained stone faced as she poured through the binder. I, on the other hand, confess that I did hide a somewhat amused smile. Pamela continued pouring through the binder until she stopped on a page. Her blank expression turned to one of shock. I knew right away what the cause was. 

"Harley." Pamela gasped, her eyes glued to the page. "Y-You really trust her? I won't play games with you, I wouldn't in your position."

I stood up from my chair, walking behind her with my arms crossed. "Honestly, no." I confessed. "She's unpredictable, she's untrustworthy and her obsession with The Joker is...Concerning...At least. But I do trust you. I know how much you care for her and I know how much her happiness means to you. My records show that Harley was at her least dangerous to civilians in her time spent with you. Some could say she was even heroic. And I know you'd give anything you owned to give her a chance at redemption."

Pamela rolled her eyes, sighing deeply as she looked back at me with a look of skepticism. "I don't even believe in my own redemption." 

"Even if you don't believe in it, I don't think that means you wouldn't fight for it. With every inch of your body." I put my hand on the table, looking her deep in the eye. "You're not the kind of person to let a friend drown, even if they're already 40 feet deep in the water. If you won't join for yourself, perhaps you could join for her."

"If you're trying to guilt me into joining, it won't work." she scoffed. She looked at me with a frustrated and stubborn look on her face. She was clearly annoyed, but I no doubt had her attention still. And I wasn't planning on letting go any time soon. 

"I don't want you to join out of guilt, Pamela." I assured her. "If I wanted to start a team of people motivated by negative energy, I would have stayed with Task Force X. If you join, I want it to be because you have faith in it. Not belief, but faith. In Harley, in the future, in second chances...Maybe eventually in yourself." 

Pamela said nothing in return, a cold silence hitting the room as she looked back up at me. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then stopped herself. 

"I'll be back in a week to officially assemble my team." I told her, getting up to leave. "When that day comes, Warden Hoenneger will ask if you're interested." I signaled to the guards to unlock the door for me, the cold, iron exit opening slowly.

Just before I exited the room, I looked back at her. "All I'm offering is a choice, Pamela. I hope you understand that."

"Thank you, Mari." Pamela replied.


End file.
